


Made in Heaven, Dragged to Hell

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Body Horror, Breeding, Large Cock, Monster sex, No Plot/Plotless, Other, Parasites, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-31 14:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Claire decided to ride the elevator down and confront William Birkin while Annette took the vaccine to Sherry.That may have been ill-advised.





	Made in Heaven, Dragged to Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



The bridge rocked a little as it reached the lower floor of the room. Claire steadied herself as the thing in front of her stretched its arms, all four of them, wide. All its eyes locked on to her, the milky white ones in its fleshless face, and the yellow ones bulging from its shoulder and thigh. She needed to kill it, let Annette get to Sherry. Whatever William Birkin had been to his wife and daughter, this thing was just another of Umbrella’s monsters to kill. She thumbed a grenade into the breach of her launcher, then slammed it shut. Then it stomped forward.

The room was big, way larger than the corridors and hallways she’d spent the night dodging monsters in. But this thing, what used to be Sherry’s father, was gigantic. Easily double her height, and with its arms spread out, it was even wider than it was tall. Space would be a problem, especially with the launcher. A forty-millimeter grenadeful of acid was not the kind of thing she wanted to shoot point blank.

It stalked her, occasionally swiping hands with claws the size of her entire arm. While its pace was slow, each gigantic stride was enough to keep pace with several of her steps. Keeping distance was difficult, especially since she did not want to take her eyes off of the thing—there had been too many close calls tonight, moments where taking her gaze off of one of these monsters almost got her killed. And against this thing? After everything it had survived?

This was not going to be easy.

She kept backing away, dodging and ducking. Slinging her grenade launcher over her shoulder she unholstered her revolver, a little self-defense number she’d done some tinkering with to let it punch above its weight class. Line up sights, squeeze the trigger—don’t pull it. Like plinking cans at the range with Chris and Barry. Just if those cans had eyes.

A gout of ichor, and the thing staggered back, eye on its shoulder bursting—it’d be back. That pissed it off. It dropped to all fours and leapt. She barely managed to dive out of the way it slammed into the steel wall of the chamber, hard enough to dent it, and also maybe knocking it senseless. She holstered her gun and sprinted away as fast as she could, putting a few pitiful meters distance, then skidded to a halt, wheeled around, unslung the grenade launcher, and fired.

She’d never known there was such a thing as an acid grenade before tonight. Like… it just seemed like anything _that_ would be useful on would die just as well with fragmentation or incendiary rounds. Maybe it was something Umbrella developed hush-hush, specifically to deal with their many, numerous monsters. Whatever, it _hurt_ the thing, the grenade splashing open in a clear, thin mist that sizzled on its skin and dropped it to a knee. Claire wasted no time in opening the launcher, slamming another grenade in and firing. 

It staggered; the hissing of its flesh drowned out by its roar. As it thrashed, droplets of acid, cloudy and brownish from the flesh they’d been eating, were sent flying. Claire backed away, as the droplets sizzled wherever they landed. The floor, the walls, those cylinders with yellow warning labels. They sizzled, then whined, and the smell of gas hit her as the acid reacted with the metal.

They explosion knocked her off her feet, sent her ears ringing. She bounced, crumpled, and groaned when sense returned to her. She rolled over, looking for the grenade launcher and headed for it, rolling and crawling. She had just managed to get her hand around the stock when she whipped her head in the direction of the monster, on the other side of the blaze. As she sat up and reloaded, the thing turned around.

It couldn’t have had enough yet. It was bigger than before, stronger. She’d hurt it, but… as it dug into the polished white metal of one of the walls, muscles bulging. Ice ran down her back when the thought struck her—it was going after easier prey, Annette and Sherry. With those huge arms, it could climb up the wall, no need to use the lift bridge. 

She was proven wrong in the worst way possible. Metal whined, wiring sparking as it was torn, and the room _shook_ as the creature pulled; not himself up, but the wall out. 

“Shit!” Claire dived as the thing tore off the huge wall panel and _threw it,_ barely managing to dive out of the way at the last second. Her teeth rattled from the impact, powderized chunks of the wall made her cough, and her ears kept ringing and the room spun. 

As she tried to pick herself up, something grabbed her leg—not her ankle, something wrapped around her entire leg—and dragged her across the floor. When she was let go, she quickly rolled onto her back and looked straight up, at that massive skull-like face. She raised the grenade launcher, the fact she was underneath the thing be damned, only for a massive paw to bat her arms, sending the weapon flying and a bolt of pain running up her entire shoulder. She gripped the wrist where the impact happened, blood dripping from a laceration. Nothing _felt_ broken, but it was small comfort when she felt _nothing_.

Especially when a massive paw gripped her and pulled her up against the thing’s belly. Her right arm was pinned between her and it, and she awkwardly kicked her legs and tried to reach her holstered revolver with her left. 

Something low in its belly split open and _mass_ spilled out, a dark fluid soaking her tank top while solid mass writhed between the two of them. The massive paw holding her pulled her away, face-to-face with a massive, thick, purple-red appendage. Things writhed and glistened, dripping something thick as it throbbed and rose to be parallel to the ground. Claire threw herself backwards, attempting to escape the grip of the creature as the blunted tip prodded her lips, leaving a trail of slime against her as she shook her head.

Claire clenched her jaw as hard as possible.

She remembered the police chief, in the Orphanage. The thing that had burst out of his chest, the thick mucus around his mouth. The notes she had found about “G’s” drive to breed, how those who weren’t compatible would be rejected by the embryos.

She was going to end up like Irons if it managed this.

She clenched her teeth shut as the creature pulled her in close, rubbing it’s massive member against her lips. Blindly panicking, she forgot her handgun and just clawed at the thick hide of the monster accomplishing nothing except having the creature’s two smaller arms each grab onto one of her wrists. The big hand holding her head continued to pull her against the massive cock. She mumbled a “nuh-uh.” Between closed teeth.

She couldn’t let it.

The hand holding her injured arm squeezed. Her scream was the opening it needed as it pulled her in closer, the cock head deforming to fit between her teeth and then widening, forcing her mouth open to accommodate it. The mucus on the beast’s cock _burned_ against her tongue as the thing pulled her deeper, pressing against her throat.

It’s hands left her wrists, wrapping around her head to pull her deeper. Something was _moving_ inside the thing, something solid pushing through its cock. It ticked the back of her throat in a way that made her want to vomit. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife—not her gun, but the first thing she could find. Something writhed, trying to find purchase at the back of her mouth.

The eye on the monster’s hip was transfixed on her.

She jabbed the knife into the thing’s eye.

The two hands holding her head against it let go as the thing shrieked, taking a half step backwards, the giant hand losing its grip likewise. Claire pulled herself away, gasping for air, long strands of saliva mixed with something. Something tried to anchor itself in even as the monster let her go. She clawed at her throat, then reached into her mouth, grabbing something that writhed. Her thumb hooked something that _bit_ and she pulled.

It stubbornly tried to stay put as she pulled and coughed. When it finally came loose, spiked it to the floor with a wet splat, and dropped to her knees as she hacked up a mix of dark fluid. She shuddered, planting her hands on the floor, gasping in lungfuls from her sore throat. Something pink and writhing lay on the laboratory floor, thrashing aimlessly.

It took her forever to break contact with the thing on the floor and look up. The monster loomed over her, strands of saliva dripping from its jaws. She tried to force herself up, but couldn’t. Her head was swimming despite the breaths she had managed to take in, her limbs were like rubber. She was back to coughing against the floor when it reached down, grasping her in one of its massive paws.

And then she was airborne.

She was hurled bodily across the room, landing hard and rolling to a stop. She felt the impact, but it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it should. She wasn’t feeling things like she thought she should, her limbs weren’t listening like they should. The monster stomped forward towards her, as she tried to pick herself up with no success.

She settled on rolling over and crawling. Maybe to her grenade launcher? She couldn’t remember where it had flown, and even if she did, she wasn’t going to out pace the monster on all fours. Still, she pushed herself away, feeling the increasingly strong vibrations along the floor, not stopping until claws raked across back, hooking into her belt.

The angry, red-hot cuts had to be shallow, she told herself, not that she had any way of knowing. She just told herself that. Like she had a fighting chance. It was over whenever what was left of Birkin decided it was.

Unfortunately, it was not nearly finished with her.

It clawed away her belt and pulled rent fabric apart like tissue. Despite that it had just tried to shove its cock down her throat, it took Claire too long to realize that it was undressing her. Everything just felt freezing and on fire at once. The realization struck when it flipped her over, holding her up in one of it’s massive paws. A smaller hand on either of her hips pried her apart, and something molten pressed against her pussy.

She raised her head to stare at him, jaw dropped. Arms pinned to her sides by the massive hand holding her, legs held apart, there was literally nothing she could do. She couldn’t even manage to look away from the massive shaft against her, pulsing, angry. Something on its surface _popped_ and split, and blinked.

No matter where she looked, Birkin was forcing her to look him in the eye.

It dragged her towards its cock; her attempt to brace her legs against it and push away were utterly feeble. She could feel it shift, compressing itself a little as it pushed its way in, but once in a few inches past the tip, it swelled. Bigger than when it was in her mouth, easily the biggest thing she’d ever had in her. She was dry when it went in, but it was dripping that slime, slickening her. The sickening warmth drowned out any pain from the sheer size, gnawing its way through her where it touched her insides.

This was a distraction, she told herself. Every minute it brutalized her was one it wasn’t using to chase after Sherry or Annette. Yeah that was it, pretend there was some victory she was eking out of this. Because otherwise, she was just being raped by a monster in a burning lab. 

She was a ragdoll when it started thrusting, slamming into her wildly. The room rocked of its axis with every time it drove into her, but the expected pain never materialized. Just the warmth and fullness, increasing. Things slowed, maybe real, maybe her perception. 

Something clammy ran against her face, and when its movement caused her head to rock forward she saw the skull-like face open, a wriggling, branching mass that might’ve been it’s tongue flicking her face. It coiled around the back of her neck, keeping her head held up as it shoved into her. Looking up, she saw two blank, emotionless eyes. Down it’s gullet, somewhere, something yellow glinted and stared, past rows of irregular teeth and writhing thngs. Down, the giant paw around her torso had opened; it wasn’t grasping her anymore, instead just holding her up in an open palm—her belly was distended, swollen far larger than that thing’s member would have been. A squirming that could’ve just been its cock, or could’ve been something else, made her heave. Nothing came out. The mass of spikes in its chest had opened, and a dozen eyes watched her.

Then it picked up the pace again.

She was just wrapped around him, head lolling, meeting his eyes in whatever direction she looked.

And it just kept slamming into her, over and over, bits and pieces of her just going numb as it kept it up. There was no feeling except fullness, being stretched, and the churning of her guts and the cold sweat engulfing her body. Her vision blurred as she coughed and hacked, the skull-face dancing as she blinked.

And as it kept fucking her, all she could do was stare at it, staring at her.

* * *

She woke on her side on a cold floor. She wasn’t dead, because if she was she would not have felt like shit. She ached and felt hollowed out. She shut her eyes, and opened them again when she saw a big yellow eye in the darkness. Her arm was numb, pins and needles from lying on it, she hoped. She had too peel herself off the floor, a crust of dried mucus and blood pasting what was left of her clothes to her, and her to the floor. The expected flare of pain when she pulled free, obviously reopening those cuts in her back, did not happen.

That was worrying.

She rolled over onto her back, groaning. She was freezing, flesh stained with all manner of slime exposed to the cold air. She didn’t even try to clean the purplish stain across her thighs and crotchShe looked down to her feet and had to bite her tongue. Trails of the slime, darkly colored, spread across the metal room. The common point of origin was her, between her legs.

It took herculean effort, but she managed to prop herself up on her elbow. Her movement caused movement, inside, something squirmed in her belly. Her heart began to race as she flashed back to Irons, dropping to his knees, his chest exploding and something wriggling its way out, at her own swollen belly. She tried to stand but the squirming buckled her knees, made her fall to the floor.

It would bite its way out. Her mind reeled. Irons went fast, but this thing, it wasn’t in her chest, by her heart. That sent a fresh wave of panic through her as she struggled, as the movement inside shifted, lower and lower. She felt tiny limbs _dragging_. Downwards. She was opened up again, this time from within. She let out a groan as something wriggled, pulled, and forced itself out of her vagina, landing wetly on the filthy laboratory floor.

When she fell on her side, she sidled away from it. She’d seen things like this in the sewers, maybe it was what forced itself out of Irons—it was way too big too big to crawl out an esophagus, to exit a stomach in any safe way. But this one--she realized the embryo had found a path of less resistance than through meat and bone. It didn’t need to eat its way through her. She was too sickened as the creature flopped over to experience too much relief over it. She watched it scuttle, leaving a fresh trail of slime.

Her eyes tracked the wet, glistening trail it left, and compared it to the others running out of the room. Over her body, tiny toothmarks—not breaking the skin, but leaving a mark, across bear flesh. The thing on the floor was approaching her. She forced her way up to her feet as it scuttled by her, then punted it. Then she fell back down, off-balance. She was just staring at the ceiling, sick to her stomach. She prayed that it was just disgust at the creatures, and not a side effect of the rape. She’d only gotten one vaccine after all.

That jolted Claire. She had sent Annette to give Sherry the vaccine. She had to make sure Sherry had gotten it, and that it hadn’t found them again. Her hand dropped to her hip—belt was gone and the crotch of her jeans was shredded, but the holster stubbornly clung to her hip, and coiling her fingers around her revolver was oddly reassuring. Looking across the lab, she spotted the grenade launcher, throwing the strap over her shoulder.

As the elevator slowly rose, and she checked the revolver, she caught site of the cut on her arm, spat and rubbed—it wasn’t scabbed over. It was _closed_ , covered in a layer of dried blood. Did it… _move_? She swallowed hard. Doused in God knows what, cut open and glued shut, the burn in her throat and up her belly. The way those things squirmed out of her rather than eating her—mother, rather than prey.

She would get Sherry out of here. Had to find a way out and get Sherry out. After that…

…she’d deal with that when it happened.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was cheerful. I vacillated between pure horror, id-ish porn, and _Corruption of Champions_ style over-the-topness. I'm honestly not quite sure what percentages of each ended up on the page, but hopefully this was fun for you.


End file.
